Intoxication
by rainbowdipNdotz
Summary: Their lips meet, and he feels every cliché he's supposed to. The fireworks, the sparks, the butterflies. Everything. Austin/Ally. One-shot.


**So... I tried. I really really did. But this completely fails. I'm so sorry. Hahahaha. I really had no idea where I was going with this. I was going to write angsty Austin... and tried to show how he really felt about Ally. Which I did in the beginning, but I couldn't help myself. I really wanted to write a happy ending. :) So, this story's kind of a roller coaster. ****Sorry if it seems Austin and Ally are out of character, because, well, they are. Hehe. ****Anybody else super freaking excited for Secrets & Songbooks? It looks so cute. I can't wait for the rest of the season because you _know_** **they're gonna end up together. I hope it's not suuuuper long and drawn out though, like Channy.**

** **And I do not own Austin & Ally or any of the characters**. This whole one-shot is his point of view by the way. Anywho, enjoy lovelies. :) Or, well at least, try to..**

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><p>He grins at her, "If you keep writing songs like that, I'll always be an Ally Dawson fan." She smiles shyly back. For some reason, that memory was vividly clear in his mind. He loves her smile. Every time she smiled, her warm brown eyes lit up, and she was… breathtaking. At that moment, he feels… whole. Like he's been pieced together. Slight butterflies are erupting in his stomach, all because of a simple smile.<p>

...

Fuck. Really, he has no clue how all of it started. He doesn't know how this…. fondness developed. _(Maybe he does, but he's too afraid to actually admit it.)_ Fondness. Not a crush. He's not fucking 5 years old. He refuses to accept it as infatuation, affection, or whatever the hell you want to call it. Merely… fondness. He likes having her around, simply because she's a good songwriter, and quite amusing at times. _(At least, that's what he tells himself.)_

You know, he read somewhere once, that people should be more attracted to people of their own hair color. Then why the hell was he always thinking about dark brown curls, instead of golden blonde hair? It's a fact. He _should_ be chasing after blonde bombshell beauties, _(well, he can't deny that he doesn't find them attractive),_ but it seemed like every pretty girl he saw these days, he always ended up comparing them to her. _I bet they can't write songs like her. They probably don't have a voice like her, or can play the piano like her. I doubt they could make me smile like her._ Frankly, the list goes on. No one could every really compare to her.

The way her silky caramel tresses cascade down her shoulders, or the way she doesn't have to wear tight, revealing clothes to impress. He would prefer her floral skirts and cardigans over those teensy tiny shorts and low cut shirts any day. She's respectable, pure. He wouldn't want to taint her. _(Because she's a little too perfect.)_

...

He thinks back to the first day he ever saw her. Casually drumming with corn dogs, while Dez was videotaping. Out of nowhere, he feels warmth on his wrists, stopping his playing. At first, he was annoyed. _Who the hell is grabbing m- _and suddenly he sees a pretty girl with curly brown hair and brown eyes, looking extremely irritated. She scolds him, and he couldn't help his eyes that flicker down to his wrists, where her small soft hands are still holding them. _They feel... nice. _Looking up, he sees that she's still lecturing him, aggravated. As she stalks off, her skirt swaying with her hips, he realizes he didn't hear a word she said. His wrists feel cold now. He doesn't like it.

A couple hours later he finds himself at the door of her practice room. He's using the harmonica as an excuse, because somehow, he's drawn to her. She's currently pouring her heart out into a song, lost in the music. He's never seen someone look so captivating before. _(He has this strong urge to hold her and never let go.)_ Realizing a little bit late that he's standing a little too close to the piano, she quickly notices him. Stopping her song mid-verse with a slight screech, she frantically looks at him, eyes wide. He's frozen for a second. He masks his uneasiness with the cool collected Austin Moon. Commenting on her song, he tries to help her. She kicks him out. _(He pretends not to notice that his heart's beating a little faster than normal.)_

...

The next day he instantly has a hit song with 2 million views on the web. Maybe the inspiration came from the pretty brown-haired girl, but he never quite puts his finger on how he wrote the song so effortlessly until she bounds into his room, fuming. He tries to make things right, but he's nervous so all of his words jumble into something completely idiotic. She storms off, outraged. (_She seems to do that a lot, he notices.)_ The events after happen in a whirlwind, and he's stumbling into the music store again, pleading for her help. Trying to win her over with his speech, he feels small and foolish, like a little kid. He wonders why she has that effect on him. When she agrees, he's never felt so elated.

Spending the whole night with her really opens his eyes. She's uptight, stubborn, and shy. Which is the almost exact polar opposite of himself. He almost feels like she's cocooned, hiding in a shell because she's afraid of people's judgments and opinions. _(Which, secretly, he is too. But the facade he puts on engulfs the real Austin.)_ Somehow he brings the happier, more carefree side to her. They're dancing and her laugh is vibrant and genuine. It makes him feel all tingly. He understands that he sounds like a total fucking chick, but there's no other way to describe it. There's no way to describe how Ally Dawson makes him feel.

He's amazed at how she can be so creative and create an exceptional song without even trying. She runs over the notes and lyrics, quietly singing to herself. He closes his eyes, absorbed in how her hands delicately press the keys, and her soft voice. That moment is sort of magical. _(To him at least.)_

When she has the song fully down, she goes over it with him. Describing to him each note, each key, and each lyric. They're playing the piano, and their hands unexpectedly touch. He wonders if she feels the spark too. When he turns to look at her, he notices the faint blush on her face. He smirks to himself.

When they finally finish, he tells her he wants her to be there with him at the Helen Show. The joy she gives him makes his stomach churn. Shooting her a big grin, he thanks her. He extends his arms for a hug while she sticks her out for a handshake. He can't help but laugh when they awkwardly trade motions. Smiling at her gawkiness, he finally pulls her into a hug. Her arms automatically go around his neck and his wrap around her petite waist. She buries her head into his shoulder, and he catches a whiff of her perfume. She smells like fruity, like strawberries. He's intoxicated.

They stay that way for a while. He likes the way she fits into his arms.

...

He smacks himself on the forehead. It's 2 in the fucking morning. He needs to stop thinking about her. Dammit. Why couldn't he stop? It's not like she thought of him that way anyways. She was his songwriter, and he was her performer. He shouldn't feel anything, but he can't help himself. After tossing and turning some more, he finally gets to sleep.

...

The next morning, he wakes up groggily. Without bothering to put on a shirt, he trudges downstairs grumpily. His eyes widen when he see her. Making pancakes. With his mom. In his kitchen. He blinks again and rubs his to make sure that she was real. She's wearing a strapless yellow sundress, and her hair falls down in down her back natural in waves. She looks stunning.

His mom turns to him, "Morning sleepyhead! It's about time you got up. It's already 11:30!" Ally turns her attention to him, and she's very aware that is torso is bare. Her eyes rake over his sculpted abdominals and she licks her lips unconsciously. This doesn't go unnoticed by him. He looks smug.

She quickly rambles, "Uh we were supposed to work on the new song this morning. But you didn't show up, so I kind of got worried. I came over to see if you were okay, but your mom was here, saying that you were just sleeping, and she was kind enough to let me make pancakes with her." She gave a smile at his mother.

"Oh sweetie it's not a problem! You're welcome to come over anytime." His mother gushes.

"Oh no! I just remember I have a hair appointment at 12. I'm going to head out! Austin help Ally finish the pancakes and clean up. Then you guys can finish your song. Bye kids! Have fun." She adds with a wink. Austin shook his head. His mother knew him a little too well.

He looked at Ally, who was currently occupied with flipping the pancakes. An idea pops into his mind, and he smirks. He walked up behind her, leaning over her shoulder.

He whispers into her ear, "Hmm, those look good. Chocolate chip pancakes?" His bare chest presses up against her backside, and his whisper sends chills down her spine. She shivers. _(Score.)_ Austin smirks; maybe she did reciprocate his feelings after all.

She turns to face him, catching him off guard. Grabbing the nearest whipped cream bottle, she sprays it all over his chest. His mouth fell agape, and she smirks. "That's for being a lazy ass and standing me up this morning."

He grabs the other bottle of whipped cream. "You know what this means right?"

Ally shakes her bottle, smiling innocently. "And what's that?"

He grins wickedly. "War."

She takes off running around the kitchen giggling, and he chases after her. At the end of their little whipped cream "war", they're both covered in the sweet sticky white substance. They drop their empty bottles, and collapse in laughter on the floor. After their laughing fit, they grow quiet.

He stares at her, "Um, you have some whipped cream on your lip."

Ally quickly rubs her mouth, embarrassed. She misses it.

"Here, let me." He wipes the corner of her mouth with his thumb, getting the whipped cream off.

Eyes lock. Brown meets hazel. He murmurs, "You're beautiful…"

He's leaning his head towards her, and she's leaning hers towards his too. Their lips meet, and he feels every cliché he's supposed to. The fireworks, the sparks, the butterflies. Everything.

He runs his tongue over her lips, asking for entrance, which she gladly gives him. Their tongues meet and it's a battle for dominance. He pulls her into his lap, and her hands bury themselves into his hair. Hands are running all over and it feels **oh so good** but the smell of burning batter wafts into his nose. _(These fucking pancakes are cockblocking him for fuck's sake) _He pulls away reluctantly.

She looks disappointed, "What? What's wrong?"

"Do you smell that…?" He questions.

She glances at the pancakes, and her face becomes panicked. "Oh no! Austin we burnt them!"

She quickly turns the stove off and waves the smoke away with her hand.

"Oh… that's too bad..." His voice doesn't show one bit of remorse at all. He sweeps her off her feet bridal style, _(he gives himself credit for that, very smooth Moon)_ and carries her to the couch.

"But I believe we have some unfinished business…" Grinning, he climbs on top of her connecting their lips once more. She pulls away, biting her lip._ (He can already feel a part of his heart breaking as she breaks their contact.)_

He frowns, "Wait? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" 

She faces him. "No, it's not that, it's just, what does this make us?" She looks down, growing shy. _(He's suddenly nervous, praying that he won't mess this up.)_

He smiles softly, and lifts her chin up with his finger. "Ally, look at me. I've practically been in love with you since I first met you. You intrigued me, and I thought you were stunning. I still do. You amaze me, everything you do. How you can take a simple melody, simple lyrics, and turn it into a huge hit. How you can always put a smile on my face, how determined you are, how you're such a good friend, how you have such a kind heart, and how… you make me feel. I want to be with you Allyson Dawson. You've changed my life. But the question is, do you want to be with me?" _(Please don't reject me please don't please don't) _He trails off unsure, avoiding her eyes.

She's practically glowing hearing his sweet words and she grins at his unusual lack of confidence.

She takes his face in her hands and whispers, "Of course I do Austin Moon. You make me feel… whole." _(He has this slight feeling of déjà vu, remembering how he had the same thought)._

She smiles seductively and pushes him down. Straddling him, she joins their mouths.

...

His mom comes home to his new girlfriend on top of him, their lips swollen, a batch of blackened pancakes, and whipped cream smothered throughout the kitchen.

Her reaction? "Aw my baby has a girlfriend! Finally, and she's gorgeous too! And nice! I'm so happy you're** finally** getting some sweetie. So, how long till I can expect a wedding and grandchildren?" She's beaming.

He turns tomato red, and Ally promptly faints from embarrassment. _(She's never been one to handle these situations well). _

His mom suddenly turns worried, "Oh… Did I say something wrong?"

Austin buries his face in his hands.

**_fin._**

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><p><strong>Hahahah got to love Mrs. Moon. Ugh, I'm not too proud of this, but I just HAD to put up an AustinAlly fic. Seriously, the fact that they don't have an archive or barely any stories is killing me.** **I AM A HARDCORE AUSLLY SHIPPER AND I AM PROUD. I know this wasn't my best work.. but please send feedback! Reviews are like crack to me. :) **

**Love, rainbowdipNdotz.**


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